


Accidental Misfire

by orphan_account



Category: Super Mario & Related Fandoms
Genre: Brotherly Love, Emetophilia, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Omorashi, Sickfic, Vomiting, Wetting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-18
Updated: 2017-04-18
Packaged: 2018-10-20 11:20:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10661499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: He whined quietly, already longing for Mario to return. To make matters worse, his tummy was churning once more... and his bladder was getting on his nerves.Only this time, he couldn’t refuse his desperation. He was fidgeting around now, his skinny legs snaking in and out under the covers.





	Accidental Misfire

Of all the times he had to pee, why did it have to be here and now? While he was bedridden with what he believed was a disease from the darkest graves of Hell? While he was (finally) comfortable in bed?

Luigi moaned and attempted to ignore the trembling, squeezing his pillow tightly. To his chagrin it was hot from his fever. He only huffed and rolled onto the sheets. Surprisingly, they were cool despite the raging warmth radiating from Luigi’s body. He groaned and relaxed... at least for merely a moment. The younger plumber grimaced at an audible murmur from his irritated gut, followed by an unpleasant bladder twinge.

He felt shitty. There was no proper or pleasant way explaining how poor Luigi felt. Complete and absolute shit. 

Since yesterday he’d been vomiting his insides out, along with what little he ate moments prior. Remaining restricted to bed wouldn't be that awful-but he had a fever, which meant constantly hot blankets and cushions.

Luigi groaned and reached out for the thawed ice compress on his nightstand, praying for at least some comfort from his raging delirium. Luigi dropped it onto his burning forehead, squinting as it blotted in and out of his sight. To his amazement he met with comforting cold, even if it was only liquid and nothing other. He exhaled as he drifted off into a misty slumber for the third time now…

—

About a few moments afterward, the younger brother jerked awake with an unexpected rumble from his churning gut. His bladder was still achingly full, pleading for relief. He thought about shouting for Mario, but….

Poor sick Luigi felt as if he were a burden to his older brother. 

He knew Mario was on the move all the while, but suddenly he got sick-which meant Mario had to forget about everything and nurse him back to good health. Obviously, Luigi was grateful for this... but if only he didn’t feel like he was bothering his big brother..

He got yanked from his concerns with an abrupt grumble from his seething stomach. Luigi flinched and trembled in return, trying his hardest to keep down the boiling waves of acidic magma in his inflamed tummy. His trembling hands were cold and clammy, quivering with his attempts to stifle the inevitable.

Luigi was at a crossroads with his decisions. Should he call for Mario? Or should he attempt to get to the toilet himself?

He panted as his tummy finally seemed to have settled... at least for now. Sighing, Luigi laid back on his harshly warm cushion, allowing himself to drift off into an uneasy slumber as his eyesight dimmed once more.

“Luigi…. Wake up..”

A delicate tap to his burning forehead was enough to pull him out of his stupor. Luigi moaned in distress as he forced his eyelids open... revealing no one other than Mario.

“Hey, lil’ bro... How ya feeling?” he asked, attempting not to disturb or otherwise make Luigi feel ill at ease.

“Horrible…” Luigi stammered in reply. He could go on, but made a decision not to. He already felt shitty enough, no need using up what scarce strength he had attempting to list off symptoms that Mario knew he developed.

Mario sighed, pulling out an oral thermometer. “Can you open your mouth for me?” he asked, taking Luigi’s trembling, clammy palm and lightly caressing it, making an effort to calm his ill little brother.

Luigi refused at first but eventually let up, allowing it to be pushed past his lips and into his mouth, squinting while Mario kept the thermometer steady, whispering tender encouragements to his baby brother and rubbing his sweat-slicked hair.

“It’s OK, lil’ bro... Big brother Mario’s gonna help you feel better soon, okay..?” Mario soothed, kissing Luigi’s forehead and sliding the thermometer out of his mouth. He gasped as he looked at the temperature reading on the instrument.

“Yikes, 102.5. Your fever rose quite a bit.” Mario sighed again, rubbing off the thermometer with his shirt. “You’re really ill, baby bro..” There wasn’t something drastic to deal with, so Mario switched out Luigi’s pillows, changing the saturated, warm pillows with pleasantly cold ones. One of them also had an ice compress packed inside of it. “I’ll be back with another ice pack. But first, do you want something?”

“N-No,” Luigi lied. He still needed to use the toilet…

“Are you sure, bro?”  
“I’m sure…”

“All right then. Call me if you want me.” With that, Mario left the bedroom, taking away the thawed ice pack he had previously.

Now Luigi was alone. He whined quietly, already longing for Mario to return. To make matters worse, his tummy was churning once more... and his bladder was getting on his nerves.

Only this time, he couldn’t refuse his desperation. He was fidgeting around now, his skinny legs snaking in and out under the covers.

Now Luigi actually didn’t know what to do. He whimpered and peered around, searching for a rational justification for getting out of bed.

Luigi squinted, the ceiling lamp bothering his eyes. He could get up and turn it off… He then looked to the stuffed dolphin resting on his desk. There was no way in hell he’d go to bed without his cherished Squeaky.

Luigi then glanced back up to the enormous golden kitsune plush sitting on his bed. Honey was nice, but both Honey and Squeaky? Yeah, that would work.

He peeled back the thick quilt, exposing his lean, quivering legs to the balmy atmosphere of his room. Groaning, Luigi gradually turned around, so he was facing the doorway, lightly swinging his legs over the mattress, and sliding down to the carpeted floor below. He shuffled into his slippers and lurched across his bedroom to his desk, took up the stuffed dolphin, switched off the lights, and plodded back to his bed, kicking off his slippers and burrowing deep into the mountain of duvet. That was simple! Sighing, he clutched his plushies tightly before eventually dozing off into a somewhat comfortable sleep.

It wasn’t long before a very painful spasm from his bladder startled him awake.

“Oooohh….” Luigi whined, his quavering, illness-stricken tone very nearly resembling that of an injured pet. Now he absolutely needed to go. And to make affairs worse, his aggravated stomach churned violently now-poor Luigi felt like he’d hurl at even the smallest nudge. His limbs quivered madly. He squinted, peering up at the pleasantly filled makeshift ice compress perched atop his sweaty forehead. Well, that made him feel a little better..

... but he needed to pee, and now! More than likely Mario was busy, so Luigi didn’t try to call for him.

Rather, he would prove to Mario that he could take care of himself. He thought back to the original time that Luigi made an effort to get things for himself while he was under the weather..

_ Last year. _

_ Luigi was confined to bed with an awful flu for most of the week. He could hardly stand up, let alone walk without sneezing and knocking himself over. Mario had been taking care of him, bringing him things he wanted. _

_ Only Luigi had enough of this. _

_ One time during that horrible week, he made an effort to get a cup of orange juice for himself. He had made it out of his bedroom and down the steps, now there was only the kitchen. _

_ He rooted through the cabinet, searching for a cup that his tremulous hands can grasp entirely, before settling on a little glass. He had gotten to the fridge and could fill up the glass with some fine, cold orange juice. He started back to his bedroom, but.. _

_ “HIIII’KSSHHIIIIIIHH-!!”  _

_ Luigi sneezed loudly, accidentally dropping the cup and sending it smashing to his toes. He panicked-but could not stop sneezing. _

_ Luigi was trembling, bawling in humiliation by the time Mario came in, promptly wrapping a defensive forearm around his suffering baby brother’s shivering frame. Tears were spilling down his face as he sobbed-extensive, soul-wrenching, congested sobs. _

_ “I-I’b sorry…” he wailed. “I-I thought I c-could…” _

_ “Bro, quit crying. It’s okay, everything's okay lil’ bro…” Mario soothed, moving him away from the shattered glass and back to his bed. _

But Luigi was confident that would not happen. Determined, he stumbled out of bed and into his slippers... but as quickly as he stood upright his stomach lurched and Luigi nearly threw up right then and there. He gagged, but kept down the sour, frothing concentrated nightmare in his gut.

He would make it to the toilet, all by himself. Luigi knew he could.

He lumbered down the hall, groaning in pain and weakly clenching his stomach. At the pace he was plodding, he was hardly out of his bedroom. But Luigi slogged on, still trying hard.

Soon he was out of his bedroom and in the hall. The bathroom was in clear sight now, much to his relief. But…

His agitated stomach became poorer and poorer-he groaned and bent forward, gripping his frothing stomach tightly in a puny effort to alleviate the gurgling, bubbling hell held within his tender tummy.

His bladder still felt painfully full too-every jerky, lurching step he took caused the poor crowded internal organ to jerk and shake at every jolt. However, he urged on-at least until a strong, powerful grumble from his inflamed stomach caused him to cringe and bend over sharply, falling to his knees.

“N-No…” Luigi whined, the churning in his gut rapidly increasing. His sweat-slicked, clammy fingers trembled, his brow gleaming with clammy wetness. He could feel the sour ick rising up his throat.

“Please... D-Don’t…” he pleaded to himself, trying and trying to keep down the concentrated hellfire in his tummy... but that was turning out futile-now that Luigi was gagging. His vision wavered and dimmed in and out as he tried literally pulling himself to the toilet, his weakened legs trembling as he pulled himself onward. He could even manage a crouching posture... but he was struggling to stay upright as little wet gags and burps escaped him, no matter how much he tried.

Suddenly, he heaved, his upper body lurching forward.

And then he gave up.

Luigi’s back arched as he stooped forward, the burning bile gushing past his lips and onto the tile, puddling into a cloudy, frothy mess. He hadn’t been eating much, so the contents of his tummy remained watery and acidic-stinging his throat and nose as he continued throwing up, with no end to the younger brother’s agony in sight.

At the same time his bladder immediately released itself from the struggle, the hot streams pouring down his limbs and pooling across his knees, ultimately blending into the steadily expanding pool of bile.

Tears were cascading down Luigi’s cold and clammy cheeks as he dry-heaved, trying his hardest to keep down the crap in his tummy and prevent the urine stream, also squeezing his unsteady legs together. This... didn’t seem to work. At all. He coughed and gagged, a narrow rivulet of spittle hanging on his lips and chin. His vision was blurring and swimming, everything in front of him blurring in and out...

He was panting heavily now, and unfortunately it turned out difficult for him to stop the flood of urine steadily streaming from him. Luigi began to cry-tiny, wheeze-like sobs as he lay there, humped over a foul fusion of his own vomit and urine.

It wasn’t long before Mario came charging up the steps in dread.   
“Bro-!” he cried, at once hurrying towards him. “Are you all right!?”   
  
But Luigi could barely gaze up at him, his arms and legs trembling fiercely. He sniffled-and regretted it, his airways still burning from having emptied his tummy. He wheezed quietly, not attempting to get up lest he fall into his own mess. He looked dreadful- his eyes were reddened and sunken in, with tears still pouring down his ghastly face. Even his lips quivered.   
  
Mario hurried over to his sick little brother, propping him up and easing him over the vomit/urine pool. “Luigi, what are you doing out of bed?” He asked.   
  
It took a while before Luigi could speak without dry-heaving, and even then his tone trembled with every sentence. “I-I…. I tried t-to…*hic* go t-t-to the b-bathroom…”   
“But why…” Mario started, until his eyes wandered down to the large wet stain on Luigi’s pajama bottoms. He already knew what that meant.   


He sighed unhappily, leading his brother to the toilet. “Luigi... Why didn’t you tell me you needed to go..?”

Luigi merely gazed in return, his eyes welling up with tears. “I-I... I’m sorry, b-bro... I t-thought I c-c-could..” He wasn’t able to complete his sentence before he gagged again. He still wasn’t done.

“Oh, no no no no... Let’s get you to the bathroom.” Mario picked him up and hurried into the bathroom before setting Luigi down in front of the toilet. He knelt down next to his little brother and tenderly stroked his back.

“I-I c-can’t..” Luigi moaned in misery, still gagging.

“It’s ok, lil’ buddy. You got this.” Mario gently massaged Luigi’s back and tummy, attempting to ease the tension in his body. “Just let it all out…”

By now Luigi was hyperventilating, the bile rising his throat. “M-Mario…. H-h... Help..” he pleaded.

“Come on. bro. You got this. Deep breaths…” Mario encouraged, massaging Luigi’s back in simple circular movements. Eventually Luigi did so... and instantly hurled violently into the open toilet bowl, utilizing every bit of what meager power he had to keep his gut from tensing up and cutting off the flood of bile. But he was still crying, the tears flooding down his face. He longed for all of this to end...

  
“You’re doing great, Weegie…” Mario soothed, continuing to stroke Luigi’s back. “I’ll help you clean up, okay lil’ bro?” He tried to remain calm-if he wasn’t then Luigi would tense up and not be able to throw up... So he waited, occasionally patting Luigi’s back and gently encouraging him with little whispers of “you’re doing good” and “just let it all out”.   
  
Soon after Luigi had eventually finished, his head resting on the toilet seat as he wheezed hard. His forehead was clammy and sweaty, and he was worn out.    
  
“You did good, baby bro.” Mario praised, lifting up Luigi’s head and rubbing away the perspiration and any residual vomit. He even ruffled his sweat-slicked hair, coaxing a weak half-smile from him.    
“Now let’s get you cleaned up,” Mario sang, already running bath water for his little brother. While the water ran, he helped Luigi off of the toilet and pulled off his dampened pajamas and underwear. All while Luigi simply gazed at his older brother, his weary eyes flickering…

_

“M-Mario…?” Luigi wheezed, struggling to peer up at his big brother.

“Yeah?”

“A-Are you... Are you m-mad at me…?” he eventually stammered.

Mario sighed, rubbing his body down with a damp cloth. “No, baby bro... I’m not mad at you. But you still should have told me you needed to go to the bathroom.”

“B-But... I didn’t w-wanna bother you…” Luigi whimpered, his eyes welling up with tears.

Mario could merely groan, unhappily. “Luigi... Look at me.” He tenderly lifted his brother’s head from the edge of the bathtub, his cheek resting on the wet towel. Luigi was still panting (but not as hard as before) making an effort to get his breathing under control...

“I don’t want you to ever think you’re bothering me.” he said directly. “If you need something, you need something. Easy as that. Hell, I’d bring the moon down if it meant making you comfortable, lil’ bro.” Mario smirked a little at that last part…

“Come on, don’t cry. Let’s get you into something nice and warm, okay?” he added, rubbing the tears away from Luigi’s pale face. He picked up the large bath towel, wrapped Luigi in it and lifted him up out of the bathtub.

Luigi promptly fell into a deep slumber as soon as Mario lifted him up and into his arms. Mario smiled to himself as he carried his little bro to his bedroom, and after dressing him in nice clean pajamas, he tucked him in along with one of his plushies, kissed his forehead and placed the ice pack over his eyes, and left him to sleep, turning off the lights and closing the door behind him.

He sighed and looked at the large mess in the hallway. “Welp... time to clean this crud up,” he muttered to himself, grabbing the cleaning supplies from the hallway closet.

_  


It was hardly a moment later when Mario heard whimpers and groans emanating from his brother’s bedroom. Dropping the basket of stained clothing, he raced up the steps and into Luigi’s bedroom, only to discover his baby brother bent over and dry heaving, his upper half dangling over the edge of the bed.

“Luigi, what’s wrong!?” He shouted, rushing over to his little bro.

“I-I... I’m g-gonna b-be s-s-sick…” Luigi sputtered between gags.

In a frenzy the older brother yanked up the large sick pail laying in front of his brother’s nightstand and pressed it onto his lap. “Alright, lil’ bro… Deep breaths…” he instructed, already rubbing Luigi’s back. And it didn’t take long for poor Luigi to throw up, retching loudly as even more bile poured out of him and into the bucket, coating the bright blue plastic with sickeningly clouded ick.

And afterwards he cried, feeling really awful. Mario had left, but came back with a warm, wet cloth and rubbed away any leftover bile from around Luigi’s lips. “Don’t cry, lil’ bro. I’m gonna help you get better, okay?” He pulled him into a warm, reassuring embrace, caressing his sweat-slicked hair as Luigi shuddered in his arms, wheezing heavily. “Do you want a cup of water?”

Luigi nodded softly, keeping his arms tightly bound around his big brother’s body. He had to admit, now he didn’t feel as awful as he did before. He still felt shitty though.

 

“All right. I need you to get up, okay?” Mario soothed, gently lifting his little brother’s weakened frame and tucking him back in. He made certain the ice compress was stable and left, coming back with a small glassful of ice water.

 

“Here you go, bro.” He held the cup of water to Luigi’s lips, caressing his forehead as he slowly sipped the freezing cold fluid. It felt refreshing on his parched throat and helped to get rid of the horrid taste that the sour bile had left behind in his mouth. Now if only he could hold it down long enough…   
  


Eventually he finished the glass, and now he was sucking on a small ice cube. Luigi shivered as a chill ran through him, more than likely from the cold water.

“Good job, baby bro,” Mario praised. He saw it as progress that he could finish the glass of water without at once throwing up afterwards. He started to put him back into the bed, but decided that maybe a small cuddle wouldn’t hurt.

 

Being as gentle as he can, Mario lifted him up and out of the bed, panicking a bit as Luigi winced in pain. He placed him in his lap where he curled up and rested his head on his big bro’s chest. Mario flinched at how warm he was.

“It’s alright, baby bro…. I got you…” Mario soothed, tenderly rocking him back and forth. “You’ll feel better soon... and when you do, we’ll go on a special road trip, only you and me. We’ll do everything you wanna do, okay?” He kissed his forehead, trying his best to soothe Luigi to sleep.

 

“P-Promise..?” Luigi stammered, slowly falling asleep afterwards.

 

Mario sighed, cradling his slumbering brother in his arms, hugging his head close to his heart. “I promise, baby bro.”

_

About two hours later, Mario heard a tiny whimper coming from his brother’s bedroom, followed by a weak, tremulous call for him. He could tell by the sound of the whine that whatever Luigi needed was urgent. So he (literally) dropped what he was dealing with (folding their clothes) and rushed up to his bedroom.

“What do you need?”

 

“I-I gotta use the bathroom…”

 


End file.
